


Flavor Town

by TheMouthKing



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: 69, Blowjobs, M/M, Smut, Work sex, every flavor peens, flavor tripping, inappropriate tags, let me have my fun, more love than a love seat can handle, rhink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 21:55:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11022357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMouthKing/pseuds/TheMouthKing
Summary: Rhett and Link + Miracle Berries = Blowjobs for Science!





	Flavor Town

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate Titles:
> 
> "There's actually more opportunity to love on a couch than a love seat."
> 
> "Rhett and Link's Every Flavor Peens."
> 
> EDITED NOTE: I posted this way early/late so I forgot to credit CrazyQuantum/Mythosethan for his Muse and Consult work. I credit the starburst idea to him entirely. Please offer thanks and sacrifices directly to him.

Link startles when the blister pack lands unceremoniously in the middle of his keyboard. He hadn’t even heard Rhett move, let alone realize he was approaching him.

It’s a damn lucky thing he didn’t jump right out of his skin. He twists to look over at Rhett, walking towards him just out of his periphery, a _what the actual fuck?_ look on his face which is answered when he sees the way Rhett’s looking at him. 

Which is, with open interest. With hunger. Link sees it for what it is — lust — and he’s a little surprised. It’s come out of the blue, it seems to Link, completely without provocation. Usually there’s a build up before Rhett’s eyeing him like this, like he wants to devour him whole. Something that sets him off. 

This time, Link feels three steps behind and a little unsure just what’s gotten into Rhett. 

To be fair though, in the times they’ve explored this new thing between them, there’s been more than one occasion where it’s come over them suddenly, like a crack of thunder where clear skies had been just moments before. That’s what it feels like now, like Link’s found himself suddenly caught in the storm of Rhett’s gray eyes. 

“You scared the heck outta me, man,” Link says, still a little shaken as he looks away, starts to settle back into his skin, and picks up the bit of plastic and foil that Rhett dropped in his lap. For the time being, he’s ignoring the look Rhett’s leveling at him, more or less. “What’s this?”

“Miracle berries,” Rhett says. 

“We still had some left?” Link asks as he flips the packet over, reading the subtly printed _mberry_ on the foil back. One of the eight pills is gone, the foil torn away, and Link flips the pack back over and looks up at Rhett as the tall man walks around the couch and sinks down next to him, their knees brushing. “I thought the crew finished them… like four years ago.”

“They did. A fan sent these.” 

Rhett grabs the laptop and tugs it off Link’s lap, moving to set it aside. 

“Hey—” Link starts, reaching for it like he’s afraid Rhett will let it fall, dropping the packet of pills on the couch in the process. 

But Link’s too slow. Rhett uses the advantage of his height and his longer limbs to stretch past Link and puts the computer on the side table before he carries the momentum through, swinging his leg over Link’s lap. “Hey to you, too, brother,” Rhett smiles and wastes no time in settling down on him. 

Link’s bowled over by the suddenness of this, but that doesn’t mean it’s unwelcome. He groans softly beneath the weight of Rhett’s body in his lap, the unignorable press of his erection against him through their jeans. He glances down to where Rhett’s thighs bracket his own. His hands find their way there of their own accord, caressing up slow like he’s asking permission — like he really needs to. He’s got it, if that low answering hum and the not-so-subtle shift of his hips are any indication. 

“What’re you doin’?” Link asks, a few steps behind Rhett’s plan — what does messing around have to do with the miracle berries? Rhett can see the confusion wrinkling Link’s forehead as he looks over at the discarded packet of berries on the couch cushion beside them.

“What’s it look like?” Rhett asks, already settled down in Link’s lap enough to grind against him slow. 

It’s apparent to Link that Rhett’s been thinking about this since before he’d come into the office. He’s more than half-hard already against him and he’s moving down on him like he’s looking for friction, eager for more. It’s distracting, and Link’s starting to forget that he’d asked a question in the first place. Rhett asked him what it looks like, and right now the miracle berries are the last thing on his mind.

“…looks like you’re feelin’ frisky,” Link breathes, the tone of his voice slipping low, giving his growing interest away. It’s a rush to feel the full force of Rhett’s need just colliding with him like this, and it’s hard to find his footing here, to catch up and settle into it. He doesn’t know yet just where this is going (though he’d have to be an idiot not to have a rough idea of it), and that has him a bit on edge, a bit uncertain. “Gosh, what’s got into you…” 

It’s not exactly a question, which is good because Rhett isn’t exactly planning to answer. 

“I wanna taste you,” Rhett announces, hands finding their way to his shoulders and dragging down over his chest, down his sides where they find the hem of his t-shirt and start rucking it up. 

“…all of you,” he adds, leaning in to catch Link in a kiss that’s hungry. He groans against Link’s mouth — he tastes sweeter, but it’s not a real good gauge of the berries’ effect because his mouth always tastes real good. Truth be told, Link tastes good _everywhere_ (at least as far as Rhett’s concerned), he just can’t shake this curiosity about what’d be different about kissing him all over (and doing other things to him) if he’d taken some of the miracle berries first. 

Link’s swept up in this right now. Normally, they go back and forth initiating things, sometimes it’s him, sometimes it’s Rhett, but in the end they settle into the speed of things between them. With kissing and messing around it’s give and take because hands and mouths are easy, but when it comes to fucking Link gets the upper hand every time. They don’t talk about it — or at least they haven’t yet — but Link just needs to be in control. Or rather, he can’t quite manage to let go of it. 

Right now’s a different story. This is a new thing, and Link can’t remember a time they’d started messing around that was so lopsided as this is — Rhett so into it before they’d even touched and Link left to catch up. But he is catching up, and fast. He’s getting hard in his jeans, against Rhett’s body grinding down on his. 

Wait… _taste him._ Real belatedly, it clicks for Link. Rhett wants to flavor trip and taste test _him._ Suddenly his mind is surging ahead and filling in the blanks with images of where Rhett will want to taste him, and.. yeah, that’s certainly helping him bridge the gap. 

Rhett breaks the kiss to gasp in a breath of air, and Link just has to know — “…is it different?”

“Your mouth’s sweeter… it’s not too different, but I ain’t done tastin’ you yet,” Rhett promises him as he nuzzles along his stubbled jaw, relishing in the drag of it over the patches of bare skin above his beard. It’s different, even if it is rough and scratchy — and he likes it. And then he’s laying a kiss on Link’s neck, right up under his ear. It’s soft and gentle for a second and then it’s slow and open, lips and tongue and the scrape of teeth. 

Link’s fingers curl in Rhett’s hair reflexively, and he doesn’t let out the breath he’s holding until Rhett’s mouth leaves his neck. He’s sensitive there, _particularly so_ , and it feels like there’s a live wire drawing a line between his neck and his cock that lights up when Rhett’s mouth is on him. 

Link tastes like _Link_ with this hint of sweetness that’s not usually there, like there’s sugar in his sweat. It’s like an aftertaste, sweetness that lingers on his tongue after he’s pulled away and it makes him want more, want another taste, want to spread him open and explore. 

“You’re delicious,” Rhett breathes into Link’s skin, nosing at him there while his hands busily work on rucking his shirt up under his arms. “…wanna stretch you out on that big damn table and eat you up…”

Like the nachos, but not savory this time. Like dessert. Rhett feels like he’s got his dessert stomach, like the first sweet taste of Link has him with room enough for all of him.

“Oh gosh,” Link breathes at the idea of it, of being the focus of that much attention, of being laid out like that and relished slow. He feels Rhett’s hands on his body and when it’s clear he’s being pressed to, he raises his arms up over his head and lets Rhett tug his shirt off and toss it. Link doesn’t have time to care about how messily his shirt lands, because the second it’s gone Rhett’s on the prowl for his next bite. 

He’s starting to shift back along Link’s legs and they’re starting to lose that press of friction. Had to scoot back a bit to reach Link’s chest, to kiss and taste along his throat and collarbone, wanting to taste his way through acres of his skin. But with the loss of Rhett’s body pressed flush against him, Link regains some brainpower — and that suggestion Rhett had had been a good one. Stretching out, maybe not on the table, but… 

Link gives him a shove and Rhett, who’d been on the way to slowly sinking his way further down, corrects for the loss of balance by leaning back into Link. Being not quite steady makes it easy when Link turns them, managing to wrangle Rhett down on the sofa. Yes, he remembers when they used to wrestle — they still do when the tension between them amps up to sparking. Rhett lands, winded and grinning up at Link, who follows him down, shirtless and straddling one of Rhett’s thighs. He takes advantage of his position while he can, shifts to grind against him while he leans down to kiss him. He’s apparently forgotten about the taste exploration… Rhett’s trip to flavor town, if you will, gotten too wrapped up in making out with him that they start to drift away from it. 

Rhett approves of the new position — of taking advantage of the length of the sofa rather than figuring out how to be on his knees without hurting himself — but he’s not in a position to carry on exploring like this, and he wants to. 

So he catches Link by the back of the neck to momentarily haul him closer, kisses his sweet mouth and gives his neck a squeeze before letting his hand drag down to his shoulder and he pushes, shifts them around so Link’s laying flat on his back on the sofa and Rhett is atop him and picking up where he’d left off.

And where he’d left off was drifting swiftly downwards. He kisses and tastes his way down Link’s chest and the further he gets, the closer Rhett comes to the waist of his jeans, the harder it’s getting for Link to stay still. 

It feels like this should sear him, that the brush of Rhett's lips on his skin should be like a brand that stays red and raw and visible even after it strays down. Link shivers at the tickle of beard over his belly, gasping as he plants an elbow against the sofa so he can push half-up to get a better look at Rhett. Rhett, who looks up at him from where he’s settled between his thighs, freeing his erection from his jeans with this look in his eye like he’s not sure he’s ever seen before. Except that’s a lie, he’s seen this look dozens of times. Hundreds of times. Like there’s this heaviness between them, like anything and everything that happens between them happens for a reason. Was meant to be. 

“You always taste real good,” Rhett murmurs as long fingers curl in the denim of his jeans, tug the waist down. Link shifts to help, and the way he squirms one hip and then the other one up catches Rhett’s attention, drags it to the taut expanse of his belly and all the skin he’s slowly baring until his erection springs free. “…can’t wait to find out how it’ll be like this…” 

“Jesus…”

When the jeans hit the floor, Link lets his legs fall apart to make more room for Rhett between them. One of those big hands rub up his outer thigh like a hello as he nuzzles in and lays a little testing kiss to the velvety skin of the length of his cock, followed by a sweep of his tongue. He can feel the tension twist in Link’s body the closer he gets to laving attention where it’s wanted.

But not much is different. Like his mouth and the rest of him, he’s a little sweeter here too, but not much changed. Rhett’s starting to feel just a bit disappointed in the berries, but he’s not done exploring just yet — the hand at Link’s thigh moves, sweeps up to curl around the base of his cock and hold him steady while he leans in to swipe his tongue over the head of his cock. Link jolts and gasps his next breath, settling back down flat on the sofa, his hand moving over his own belly, reflexively reaching for Rhett but holding back for now, like he thinks he shouldn’t yet. 

“Oh gosh…” Rhett startles and repeats the move, licking him again. Tasting him. “Gosh, you taste so good…” 

“Fuck,” Link breathes the word out, trying to moderate the tension coiling up in him unsuccessfully. 

“It’s like…” Rhett muses, searching for a good description and goes for another lick, slow and thoughtful and it draws a shiver out of Link that arches his spine. “Like a starburst.” 

“What?” He’s half-distracted, so focused on Rhett’s mouth and those excited licks dragging over the head and how his hand curls soft and warm around the base of him that it’s hard to think of anything else. 

“Yeah, like a lemon starburst,” he confirms after another taste and dives back for more, taking him into his mouth so he can take his time with tasting him. So he can circle his tongue slow around the head of his cock, sweep through all that strangely sweet precum with a low moan. It’s sweet but there’s this secondary bitter sour something at the back of his tongue. It’s a rush. It’s fucking perfect. He’s never minded the taste of Link — he’s never complained even once — but he’s absolutely had the thought (and shared the thought aloud) about how great it would be if dick tasted like candy. 

Link can feel that moan rumble through his bones and he moans in answer, head turning away to the side, maybe shy, maybe needing a second, air and space to breathe while Rhett satisfies his curiosity and hunger for him all at the same time. Link sees the discarded pack of pills there next to his face on the couch, and Rhett’s down there mumbling something into his dick about how unreal this is. 

Link grabs the packet, punches one of the pills free of the foil and pops it into his mouth and is letting it dissolve on his tongue before Rhett surfaces for air again. 

“It’s so weird, dude… like it tastes like a popsicle. A cocksicle,” Rhett’s eyes twinkle with pleasure at his bad joke and Link would roll his eyes and give him shit for it, except he can’t find it in him to do anything but feel and react, what with Rhett working him over with his hand and mouth. Rhett wants to know what he tastes like when he comes. Wants to know if it’s the same or different, stronger or sweeter or what. 

Link shifts the leg closest to the back of the sofa. It’s tucked a little awkwardly beneath Rhett’s body, and it brings his foot in contact with the hard press of his erection through his jeans. He’d known he was hard and he’d felt it when Rhett was sitting straddling his lap. It’s not like he’d forgotten, but rediscovering it now when the man’s laying against him like he is, the weight of him against his legs, his hips, and with his head in his lap, going on and on about how good he tastes has Link overwhelmed and wanting in. Wanting to know, _now_ , just how different Rhett tastes like this. 

He holds off, though, because every time he tries to open his mouth and stop this, change directions, Rhett does something with his tongue that stops his thoughts in their tracks. Rhett’s so damn good with his mouth it’s impossible to think. He’s not the only one distracted, though. Rhett’s distracted enough that he didn’t realize Link had taken one of the pills until Link finally manages to gather together enough brainpower to announce, “I wanna taste.”

“Huh?” Rhett asks, confused, his hand stroking over the whole length of Link’s cock in his mouth’s absence. He’s mistakenly thinking Link means he wants to taste himself — he’s distracted by the whole thing. By his need and the trip of the unexpected taste of him, and how into the whole thing he is already — how badly he wants to get him off, to make him come and taste the difference there too. 

“I got a berry… I wanna— wanna taste you,” he stammers. They’ve never tried it, not both of them at once, but suddenly Link needs to. He shifts a little like he wants to move but he’s torn about it, doesn’t want to leave what they’re doing now. 

“…like now? At the same time as I…?” 

“Yeah, c’mon… lemme move.”

Rhett doesn’t need much convincing to agree. He shifts enough to let Link pull his legs away, but Rhett’s gotta stand anyway — he’s gotta strip out of his clothes if they’re going to do this. He makes quick work of that, peeling off his shirt and giving it a toss, but before his jeans join Link’s somewhere on the floor, he finds himself suddenly bowled over. Link’s half on him, tackles him back against the sofa and Rhett lets out a soft _’oof’_ sound as his mouth is crushed beneath Link’s. 

“Get those off,” Link breathes against Rhett’s mouth. 

“I was tryin’,” Rhett shoots back, but there’s not much time for talking. Link licks his way into Rhett’s mouth, and he’s right, it’s sweeter. He’d expected to taste himself on Rhett’s mouth but there’s just this curl of sweet, of something unexpected that sparks his curiosity and desire for more. 

It’s not long before they’re settling back down on the couch carefully, facing opposite ways. Somewhere along the way, as they were coordinating their long limbs and trying not to fall before they’d started, Rhett reached out to take Link’s glasses off his nose and sets them aside, tucked safe on the end table, on his laptop. Soon, Rhett’s laying on his side with his back pressed to the back of the couch while Link settles down on his side towards the front edge, inching closer as he gets in position. It’s awkward, and Link almost falls off the edge of the couch more than once, but Rhett helps, his hand catching Link by the side and drawing him closer. Helps guide him in. They don’t quite line up right, and with the both of them trying to line their torsos up there’s damn near too much leg on either side for the couch to handle, even bent at the knee, even as long a couch as it is. 

“You okay?” Rhett asks, worrying over whether or not Link will fall off the edge of the couch. He’s got his arm draped over him, the other hand curling around the length of his cock and giving a slow tug while he waits for Link to answer, while he settles in, scooting in just a little bit closer, making little adjustments to how they’re positioned. 

“Yeah,” Link says. It’s just strange. He’s never done this — it’s strange to be aimed this way, to be facing Rhett’s legs instead of the rest of him. He’s not used to not being able to look up and catch his eye. It’s an oddly detached feeling, but at the same time, not at all detached. He can’t move without feeling Rhett’s hands on him, holding on. 

“Mmkay, then… I’m just… I’m gonna,” Rhett announces rather vaguely before giving up trying to explain and just leaning in to take Link back into his mouth again. It’s odd, oriented this way. The angles are different, not more difficult necessarily, just new, but Rhett’s falling into step quickly enough. He still tastes sweet on his tongue and Rhett’s insistently chasing his way to the answer her needs, not just tasting but taking him in, letting the silky soft skin of the head of his cock drag against the roof of his mouth as he leans in as far as he can go.

It’s so _mutual_ that it’s easy for Link to begin to fall into step, settling in closer and rubbing his hand up, down Rhett’s belly and sweeping towards his cock to hold it as he leans in, guiding it to his lips.

“Mmm…” Rhett hums around a mouthful of Link when he feels the smaller man’s tongue sweep over the head of his cock. 

“Holy crap, that’s so weird…” Link couldn’t believe it. Link typically only tolerated the taste of cock so he could go down on Rhett, so he could get him off, watch him fall apart. And yet, he can’t believe how goddamn good Rhett tastes right now. 

“That’s so good,” Link breathes, leaning back enough to talk. He’s dazed, lost in the trippiness of the experience and how good Rhett’s hands and mouth feels on him, working over him real slow. He’s more focused on that and on the foreign sweetness of his skin than he is in making him feel good. It’s not intentional, it’s just hard to hold the awareness of everything that’s going on when there’s just so much. 

“It’s not starburst, though…” he muses aloud and licks again, and again and again, slow, like he’s thinking, like he’s trying to connect the dots, all the while distracted by the wet heat of Rhett’s mouth on him, “It’s like candy… like a jolly rancher or something…” 

It doesn’t feel as though he’s done working out just exactly what it is that Rhett tastes like. 

“I need a little less talkin’ here, bo,” Rhett pauses, saliva-slick lips brushing over the shining head of Link’s cock as he talks, face flushed and a little shy about how worked up and needy he’s feeling. He doesn’t know if he can handle Link taste testing him like this much longer. To be fair, he’s been worked up since before they’d even started, since before he’d walked into the room. He decides the best way to get his point across is to press on ahead and show Link exactly what he means, and leans in, lets his lips drag silky smooth over the head of his cock before he takes him into his mouth as far as he can. The hand at his ass urges Link closer so he doesn’t have to lean so much to take him in further. 

It's a weird feeling not to be able to rake his fingers through Rhett's hair in response to what he’s doing, to urge him in. There’s a loss of control in it, a strange vulnerability that comes with this. Usually, the thing Link liked most about going down on Rhett was being in control, was slowly plucking at the strings that held him together until he was breathless and fisting his hands in his dark hair. It was knowing he did this to Rhett, it was the slight detachment that came from remaining dressed, when he went that direction, it was looking up at him along his body and fixing him with a look that says _I know exactly what I'm doing to you, and there’s nothin’ you can do about it._

The thing of this is, there’s plenty Rhett can do about it if Link starts pushing buttons. 

A moan startles out of Link to find himself pressed against the back of Rhett’s throat, those big old hands gripping at his ass to hold him close. Link swallows thickly and sucks in a breath of air before he stops messing around and gets to it, presses an open mouthed kiss to the head, tongue sweeping and swirling and tasting around before he draws himself in, one hand gripping the back of Rhett’s thigh for leverage and a hand-hold. He can feel the groaned response he earns from Rhett, and it shakes him to his core — god, this is why people do this. This is why it’s worth the awkwardness, the false starts, the difficulty in focusing on two (or more) things at once — because sometimes, sometimes you do something that makes the other person feel so good they moan and it creates this circuit, this feedback loop of pleasure that feels endless. Perfect. 

Link moans too, and he knows the vibrations have to be rumbling through Rhett. And gosh, he can feel how he tenses then, feels the shift in his thighs as his body goes a bit rigid in response. From the other end of the couch, he hears the catch of his breath, feels those thick fingers tighten their grip of his ass. Oh yes, this is so worth it. 

He’d nearly started to forget why they were here in the first place. The berries, the flavor tripping. There’s a definite change, Rhett tastes sweet like hard candy instead of the usual frankly unpleasantness, but as the minutes stretch on it’s harder to keep focus on just the taste of him. He keeps getting distracted, his mind keeping on wandering to how good Rhett’s mouth feels or how close his fingers are getting to his ass — to actually teasing a finger against his entrance.

It’s only here and there that he remembers, when Rhett lurches closer to coming. When he’s leaking precum and Link’s reminded just how sweet he tastes, like some near-ripe fruit nearly bursting over his tongue. Rhett doesn’t forget for a second — he’s distracted, but he manages to hold the distraction of Link’s mouth side by side what he’s doing, keep his sight set on Link coming and learning this new taste of him. 

Rhett comes first, but not for lack of trying to get Link off first. It’s just that Link’s mouth feels so good and once he stopped giving him tiny curious licks like he was a mystery flavored lollipop, now that he was using his lips and tongue, his whole mouth, it was just a matter of time. Rhett hadn’t considered how to handle this, how it would be to come with his mouth full of Link. He’s never had to police himself like this, to be this conscious of his body and whether or not he’s hurting Link when he’s falling apart. His fingers dig into the firm skin of his ass as he breathes through it, his other hand curled up awkward and uncomfortable between them. Way belatedly, he’ll realize he could have pushed Link away if he’d needed to breathe, to let this moment pass without his mouth full, but in the heat of it he forgets that he’s got that control. 

In the moment, Rhett feels a little trapped by their position, feels helpless because of it. And that makes it so much hotter, so much better somehow, and leaves him breathing heavy through his nose and moaning as he leans in as far as he can. 

Link’s never let his distaste for the flavor keep him from going down, but he never lets Rhett finish in his mouth. He’s always thought that’s more of a texture thing. He’d often wondered if he could handle the taste if only the texture wasn’t so… you know. But today, for whatever reason, he’d decided to press on. To see if it wasn’t the other way around, to see if it was the flavor that made him gag and if sweetness was the cure.

And _the taste is unreal._ If he’d tasted sweet before, this was sweeter. There’s still the texture to contend with. And, if he’s honest, there’s still a moment there where he’s not sure he can manage this, where the weird slimy thick texture of it threatens to get itself ejected, but the distraction of how good he tastes overrides it just long enough that he swallows some of it down. And then again, before he can think too hard about it. When he’s done and come away, Link presses his forehead down against the couch, his cheek hot against the leather as he lays, gasping for air.

It doesn’t escape Rhett’s notice that Link doesn’t pull away at the last second, doesn’t finish him off in his hand. That Link swallows him down like he’s hungry for him, even if he’s not, even if it’s still a challenge for him, flavor aside. And fuck, that’s hot. He knows how huge that is for him, how impossible, and he wants to repay him. Wants to make this good, the best goddamn thing they’ve ever done together. He shakes his head slow, shifting it side to side like he’s looking to make as much room in his mouth for Link as is humanly possible. He pushes almost too far, like he doesn’t know his limits, hits the edge of where he can’t quite handle it and his body jerks and he’s fighting down his gag reflex. And that takes a second, takes a moment of his full concentration and an intentional swallow to reset, but the jerk and the startled, strangled sound he’d made… that seems to be the catalyst, the thing that set Link off in the end. 

Because Rhett’s barely had a second to recover and Link’s coming, nails biting into the skin of his hip, breath hot against Rhett’s damp and softening cock as he lays gasping and shaking on the couch. Rhett pulls back a little bit, enough that he can taste instead of just trying to swallow it all down as fast as he can without tasting it too much. This time, he wants to bask in the flavor of it, wants to let it roll over his tongue. Wants to savor it. 

And it’s just as good, just as sweet as he’d hoped. Similar to before, to the taste of his precum, but stronger and stranger for the texture of it. Rhett finds himself sad when he’s swallowed it all, searching for more hints of the flavor before he finally, reluctantly pulls away because he knows that Link’s too sensitive after to indulge much more of his curiosity. 

They lay there on the sofa like that, aimed in different directions and still clutching each other, until the awkwardness forces them to move. Even then, Link just gets up enough to turn around and comes right back to lay against Rhett. The both of them still needing more time to recover. 

“Holy crap,” Link murmurs and looks over at Rhett, blinking at him, his vision gone a little soft from the intensity of it. 

It seems Rhett had been watching him from the moment he’d laid down again, because the second he looks up at him, Rhett’s leaning to catch his mouth in a kiss, his hand come up to guide him in, to drag along the stubbled line of his jaw.

“That was amazing,” Rhett breathes as he pulls back, his voice warm with awe. 

“Yeah,” Link echoes. He still hasn’t quite fully processed the scope of this, the fact that he’d actually just swallowed. That he hadn’t spit it back up for trying to. The whole thing was just so overwhelming that it hasn’t hit yet. 

“And it was okay?” Rhett asks, a little worried, concerned that Link hadn’t really wanted to, that he’d pushed himself to prove something to himself or to Rhett. 

“Yeah… it was good. I mean, the texture was still… but it wasn’t bad. It didn’t bother me like it usually does,” he explains awkwardly, feeling like he’s not quite doing a great job of it. 

Rhett presses a little kiss to Link’s forehead and murmurs, “You know never have to if you don’t wanna.”

The fact that Link doesn’t like finishing him in his mouth has never really bothered him — it wouldn’t be worth it, knowing how much Link doesn’t like it. And he’s just as happy to let him use his hand, to come over Link’s face or chest or his own belly because he knows that as much as the taste and texture don’t sit well with Link, the mess of coming over skin does something unexplainable to him. He’d never push for what Link can’t give, because there’s so much that he does give and gladly. 

“…I know. I wanted to, though. I wanted to see how it’d be like this, if it’d be easier,” Link explains, angling his face up so he can press his nose against Rhett’s in a silent _boop_. 

“Was it?”

“I mean, it was still overwhelming… but it was easier, yeah.”

They fall into comfortable silence for a couple of moments, Link tucked comfortably against Rhett’s chest, neither of them talking until Rhett breaks the silence. 

“I think we need to revisit the miracle berry episode. Or maybe do a _Will It Blowjob?_ Hey, ow!”

Link slapped his arm playfully, “Idiot.”

He’s barely containing a grin on the tail end of that insult and it totally undermines the intended barb of it. 

“You love me.”

“Yeah, yeah… I guess I must to have stuck around such an idiot for so long.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are appreciated. :D


End file.
